


Keep on going

by NotInTheMood



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Friends to Lovers, Post-War, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-11 14:29:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13526232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotInTheMood/pseuds/NotInTheMood
Summary: Maybe she was never going to be normal. And that was ok. But it was about damn time for her to be happy. Whatever that was supposed to mean.





	1. All was not well

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, here I'm again. Let me know what you think and if there are mistakes with my english. ;)

Hermione watched her own living room. Rose and Hugo had already left for school and were going to their father’s for the weekend. For the first time in forever, she was alone. Fisically alone, because on the inside, she felt lonely for far too long.

After the final battle, she could swear she slept for six months. At least. But that wasn’t true. Things were so chaotic, around her and in her head, that it just seemed so. She felt lost and empty. And that made her feel sad and frustrated.

She spent three years fighting a war and helping save the world. Before that, she had spent other four years just trying to save the Golden Trio’s lives. All that at the age of seventeen. Barely a child. And then, all of a sudden, life could finally be normal, whatever that was supposed to mean.

At a loss for what to do, she tried to keep things normal, whatever that was supposed to mean. She kept going to the Burrow, seen Harry, Ron, and Ginny. Luna and Neville. It was like everybody was afraid of being alone. Except, that was exactly how she felt.

Then she went back to Hogwarts, and that seemed normal too. No matter how much the Great Hall now looked like a graveyard every time she passed. Full meals every day, the same bed in the same place every night. A whole new bunch of kids without any nightmares, who’s biggest trouble while in school were going to be getting late for classes.

It was not normal. That was not how normal was supposed to be. The first real sign that thing wasn’t as perfect as they all wanted it to be was a divorce. It passed by everybody like the cold breeze of a dementor. What if all that happiness that they fought so hard to gain and so hard to live in, was a lie?

But even so, Fleur and Bill were the first ones. Victoire was just a toddler and Molly got terrified of not seeing her first grandchild. That didn’t make Hermione think about her choices and the awkward feelings pooling around her since the end of the war. On the contrary, she fought harder than ever to make things right, to have her happy ever after.

“Yes”, she said when Ron proposed. Nevermind that she was still barely a child, that she was starting her internship at the ministry, or that her relationship with her parents was still recovering. Even so, they were the last ones.

She had a degree, a great job, her fiancé, her friends. The world around her was building itself together again. But it was not normal. That was not how normal was supposed to feel.

Everyone around her seemed to be ok, they moved on. She didn’t.

When Rose arrived, she was the happiest she had ever been. And again with Hugo. She would lay in bed with them, tell a bunch of storys. But when they would ask about Hogwarts, she was always uncomfortable.

They would ask about the scars their parents and aunts and uncles bared, about those faces in the pictures that were never home for the holidays. And she would be there again, fighting a war, running for her life.

It was not normal. That was not how normal was supposed to be. And then, the day came on which she could not stand it anymore. Maybe she was never going to be normal. And that was ok. But it was about damn time for her to be happy. Whatever that was supposed to mean.


	2. The invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brightest witch of her age realized that life is something you never stops learning how to be better at. She understands that she’ll not always be the best, and maybe that is a less stressful way.

Hermione is once again single. But this is old news. She’s been single again for the past six months. It is not the perfect life, but she no longer believes that life can be perfect. And that is ok, that is normal. Imperfect does not mean “bad”, or “sad”. It means that some days are ok, some days are great, and some other days she would like to set something on fire.

The brightest witch of her age realized that life is something you never stop learning how to be better at. She understands that she’ll not always be the best, and maybe that is a less stressful way. She’s learning not to feel guilty about enjoying her nights alone when the kids are with Ron. She likes to go out, read or study something at the cafes near her house or the ministry. Other times she goes out with some colleagues from work. Today she is going to grab something to eat with Ginny.

As always, Ginny dealt better with the divorce than Harry and Ron. The boys got scared of what that could mean to the future and their friendship and families. They were not very good, or useful, when feelings were involved. And for once, Hermione didn’t have the answers either. But they were coming around, on their own accord, path and time.

This is why the words coming out of Ginny’s mouth get Hermione out of guard. “So, what do say? I know it can be a little awkward, but is not the first time you come around the Burrow, and, more important, you will always be part of our family, ‘Mione. It’s just a quiet family dinner to celebrate Harry’s birthday, come on!”.

The brunette was a little surprised, but just that. Yeah, moving a lifelong relationship from something to something else is a weird path to take. She and Ron are still figuring this new place they are at. But he will always be Ron, one of her boys. And the father of her kids, so she says the only thing she could: “Of course, Ginny! You don’t need to make such a big deal out of it.”

“Oh, great! And now the best part: James and Albus are staying with mum for the weekend, so, we’ll have another party, just for the adults, on Saturday. And you are coming for this one too!”

________________________________________________________

Hermione is looking herself in the mirror. Her tanned skin - always a couple shades darker than the rest of her friends, her wild hair, and her scars. That one time she fell from her bicycle market on her left ankle. The day she burned herself making breakfast for her parents is now a puffy mark on her hand. That time she was tortured by a mad witch written over her arm in flawed letters. The burns from thousands of copies of tiny cups hidden in a vault. She had made her peace with those ones. She wore them with a fierce pride: she fought a bunch of evil people, she rode a dragon, she was - and still is - strong.

There are new ones, too. The stretch marks on her lower abdomen, where her body had to rearrange itself to accommodate and develop her kids. She would not say they were beautiful, but she was not going to let something as stupid as beauty standards make her feel uneasy about her own body.

And for that, she picks up a cropped white shirt that shows the lower part of her upper body, baggy jeans that only go as far as her ankles and some sandals. These summer nights are really hot, and now she’s comfortable and feeling good about the outfit. It’s time to aparate.  
________________________________________________________________________  
She’s standing at the front of the gate to the garden. Once again, a long table is made out of a bunch of old mismatched tables put together. There are balloons floating around, people talking in groups, kids running. As an adult, Harry doesn’t have a Quidditch/Gryffindor themed party. The tablecloths are multicoloured, as are the plates and glasses.

She’s watching the scene for some time, but what she sees now is another party. The one they were all talking about the murders and people missing, the one they received Dumbledore’s will, the one where a Patronus came with a warning to run.

It’s been like this for some time, these flashbacks. But at this point, she knows how to deal with it. She starts playing on her head all the other parties that came after the war. Times where happiness occupied the same place as sad, haunting memories: Ginny and Harry’s engagement party, Victoire’s first birthday, the barbecue they tried once. Harry and Ron’s graduation from the Auror training. That time Rose was running in the yard and got so scared by a gnome that she floated five feet in the air and Ron spent the day awestruck with his daughter talent, “she’s the brightest witch of HER age, Mione!”.

When she crossed the path to the yard, two little humans run to her. One had her bushy hair and Ron’s long nose. Rose’s hair was a beautiful mixture of her father’s flamelike red and her mother’s brown one. Hugo had the Weasley’s freckles and Ron’s big ears. Hir hair was more tamed but darker than his sister’s.

“Mum! Mum! James and Al are sleeping here too! We are camping outside with grandpa!”, “Auntie Mione! Are we old enough to get broomsticks for Christmas this year? Are we?”

There were a lot of hugs and questions fired up in a short amount of time until some responsible parent called the kids. It was Ginny. “Ok, you bogeys, leave a witch alone, will you? James, you lot will have brooms when you need them! You are only camping if you promise to behave with grandpa. And finally, now is my turn to hug Hermione, out of the way!”.

She hugged Ron after that, leaving Harry for last to congratulate him.

George and Angelina were there, as were Percy and his wife. Mrs Weasley said that Charlie was somewhere in the house and after a while, she saw a little blond girl playing and supposed that Bill was also there. She thought of Fleur, if the veela was coming too, and how she was after all this time.

_________________________________________________________________________

Hermione had just said goodbye to the kids. Even if was too early, Rose asked for a goodnight kiss and some spells to protect their camping site. Her mother lets a patronus-like cloud of lights above her sleeping bag. Her little girl is so brave and smart. She could practically see Rose saving the boys arses at school. Hugo said that they would be back home in a couple of days and then the three of them would do something fun together. She is always happy to realize how much more sensible he is than his father and uncle.

She arrived at the kitchen to raised and angry voices. One of them with a thick accent. “Fleur! I know it’s short notice, but all of her cousins as staying the weekend! She has the right to be with her family!”.

“Don’t you darre to do this agaen, William! I am not taking Victoire away from her family! She has grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins back home too! My family is a family too! You can’t tell her that she’s staying in another country for the weekend without talking to me first, I’m her mozer! She doesn’t have her thing here, that is why you have to talk to me, let me know, let me participate in the decision!”.

Yeah, Hermione knew this argument all too well. It wasn’t looking good, but for some reason, Molly wanted to participate. “Fleur, dear, of course, your family is Vic's family too, but, it’s different for you. We are really close, and we want her to live all of this…”.

Hermione cleared her throat. “Sorry, I just wanted to say goodbye. Hi, Fleur didn’t see you”.

Fleur’s face was flushed with anger. She was breathing a little hard and with her eyes closed.

“Oh, hullo, darling. We are just talking with Fleur about the kids' weekend. Rose and Hugo are excited, aren’t they?”

“Mrs Weasley, I really shouldn’t get involved. But, if it helps, Fleur, Rose has some pyjamas that are too big for her, and they always bring extra toothbrushes. My parents are dentists. Victoire can stay if you let, and we can go have a drink, catch up a little. What do you think?”. The brunette hopped that Fleur noticed she only tried to help.

“Hum, oui. Yes, I guess. But William, we’ll talk about this. I’ll say goodbye to Victoire now.”

“Ok, I’ll meet you at the gate”, Hermione informed her. When the blond witch left, she turned to the other two in the room. “You have to stop doing that to her. I know you are a big, loving family. But that does not mean that you are the only one. Even if Fleur’s, and mine, families are not as big, they love these kids the same way you do, Mrs Weasley. Imagine how it would feel if you had to fight with Ms Weasley for the kids, his family is bigger and closer than yours!”. With that, she also left the kitchen.

By this time, the young witch was a little mad with the fight. Ron’s family - Molly and some of the boys, to be specific - could be difficult from time to time. She captures Fleur’s look at the gate and started apologizing at once. “Fleur, I’m so sorry, it was not my place. I just wanted to help, these fights are so exhausting…”,

“Hermione, it’s ok. I know, I know. I’m still angry, but better now.”

The brunette relaxed a bit, remembering the idea she had just a couple of minutes before. “Well, you are getting even better in an instant! We are going to a new bar I’ve been wanting to try! I mean, if you want, of course. What I said it’s true, we can go out, forget about the fight and catch up. But if you are tired and want to go home, I understand”.

Fleur seemed to think, “Thank you, Hermione. I...Oui, I think it is a good idea. I would like that, thank you.”

Hermione hadn’t planned that outing. It just occurred to her, see the argument, that Fleur could use some empathic company right now. If was someone who had been in one of those arguments, the better. The last time they saw each other, talked, had been a couple years ago. But right now that didn’t matter, it was not uncomfortable. That knew bar got her attention the week before and now everything seemed fitted. So, they were going! Hermione put her hand out in an invitation. Fleur took it. With a pop, they were gone.


	3. A partner in crime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The waitress came back later with four shots for the duo. “This if from the gentleman over there”, she said, putting two glasses in front of them. “And this is from the the lady on the other side. Enjoy!”, she told them while leaving.  
> They took the first one, clinking their glasses. Fleur turned directly to the young man who has sent her the drink and turned the liquid in one go, batting her eyelashes at him. She nodded at Hermione, daring the younger one to repeat the act with her own admirer. The brunette took an invisible deep breath, taking the glass in her hand. She nodded at the tattooed woman with a timid smile, toasted with Fleur, and drunk. “I knew you had it in you”, the French beamed at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of update last week, it was carnaval!  
> So, I'll start editing the first chapters. I saw some mistakes. I'm correcting this one now, if I forget something, please tell.

It was a warm summer night in London. The streets were almost full of people walking in every direction. There was one particular alley strangely empty, void of drunk wanderers, with garbage on the floor and old dustbins near the brick wall. Across the street, a group of young adults talked about something more or less important. One guy, a tall one, with yellowish red hair was intensely looking at the alley, thinking hard about life, but without focusing on anything. Maybe that was the reason why he thought he was going crazy.

  
One second, the place was empty. In the next, two figures appeared. The guy blinked, his mouth wide open. He looked to his friends, but no one seemed disturbed. He tried recounting his beers so far, but they were not that much. Looking again, he confirmed the presence of two persons at the once empty space. _They must’ve been snogging in the dark_ , he told himself. But that was not true. Two witches had just apparated there.

One was tall and languid, with blond hair falling on her shoulders and blue eyes that seemed uneasy. She had a simple dress on and looked worried. The next was shorter, with wild bushy brown hair and tanned skin. Her eyes were a light brown, but no one could tell in the dark street.

Hermione Granger looked around. She had brought Fleur to the right spot, the place she wanted to try was just a couple blocks away. She thought that one guy across the street saw them arrive, but couldn’t be sure.

Fleur Delacour took a deep breath. Aparating, while greatly useful, is uncomfortable on the best days. On a day she was mad because of another stupid fight with William regarding their daughter, well, she could cry or vomit, or yell. But instead, she took a deep breath. The witch was still full of anger, but she had already lost too many nights been angry with her ex-husband. Today she didn’t need to.  
The last time she had seen Hermione must have been on Albus’ birthday a couple years prior. Vaguely, in the back off her mind, she couldn't stop but think if this meeting was going to be an awkward, silent one. But she needed a distraction and the younger witch was not a stranger.

The blonde exhaled slowly and looked around. They were in an abandoned alley, full of garbage and she got slightly afraid of smelling like the place if they didn’t get out soon. Hermione broke the silence with a nervous huff. “It’s just three or four blocks on foot. This is the best place to aparate in this area”, she said.

“Well, that is good, 'cause if this was the bar I would have to decline future invitations”, the other witch responded. Both smiled at the little joke. Things would work out just fine.

They started walking through the night, using the warm air, lightly blowing on their faces, as a distraction from the earlier stress and a focusing draught for what was coming ahead.

Fleur watched everything with curiosity. She rarely had seen this side of London in her short time living there. William and she went out sometimes when they started dating, but only to the exclusive wizarding places.

The street was in semi-darkness, and music escaped through the open doors. Women and men crossed their path, laughing drunkenly. There was a pub ahead, at first it looked like every other one on the street. “This is the one”, said the younger witch.

Fleur examined the place for a couple minutes, concluding that it was _very British_. Hermione led the blonde through the place ‘till the end of the bar, where another door led to a backyard with shiny lights and picnic tables.

Fleur took a seat at a smaller one, near a big tree. She fell at the chair like at the end of a rough tiring day and took some time to admire the place. The tree cast a shadow over the table she chose, making the place even darker. The little yellow lights were like tiny stars, giving the place a safe aura, one could be comfortable there, “no one will judge” it seemed to say. _A good place to run from a fight_.

“So, have you ever had muggle drinks before?”, Hermione asked, looking at the options. She was inclined to try one of the drinks. But maybe the beginning of the night called for another thing.

“Just wine and some kinds of beer, why? Do you see something interesting?”, Fleur was watching Hermione with mild interest. Whatever the other chose, she was ok with.

“Ever heard of tequila? It’s a Mexican beverage, you drink it with salt and lemon”.

Shot nº1:  
“Ok, so, you see, you put the salt on your hand, like this. Then, you take the shot”, said the brunette turning the little glass in her mouth, “lick the salt”, she lick it, “and the lemon”, she put the slice between her lips and drunk the juice making an ugly face. “You try!”

Fleur followed the ritual as best as she could, but as soon as the strong taste of the drink hit her she lost a little coordination with the licking and the slice of lemon and end up spitting a little bit of the three. But the final taste of the mixture was not bad, the process was a little tricky, though.

“How do you know how to do this? Drunk a lot between classes?”, she asked while cleaning her chin.

“Well, it’s a very well kept secret but, I was once a teenager, you know. When I wasn’t at the Burrow a had a home of my own, with normal kids that did kids things, like taking shots”.

It was not the intention, but this revelation picked Fleur’s attention. She was so used to Hermione, Ronald and Harry as extensions of themselves that picturing the girl with a history of her own was surprising. “Now I have to know what else the brightest witch of her age did with her summers”.

Shot nº 3:  
This time, she was going to do it right! Or at least that is what she told herself when the waiter brought their third round. “Here”, Hermione said, taking her hand with both of hers and spreading some salt between her fingers, “let me help”. _Well, this is new_ , she thought. They were not close and the British didn’t seem very tactile, but she was glad. They are a little warmer back at home and she missed this kind of closeness.

By now she knew more about Hermione then she had ever imagined possible. She knew about her childhood and her teenager shenanigans. She was embarrassed for having just associated the girl as a part of the boys. Fleur had also let some old stories slip. The girls' dormitory at Beauxbatons was a legendary place, after all. They were masters at the art of smuggling parents’ alcohol stashes to the school.

“I think I got it”. This time she didn’t make a mess. It was a win. The younger witch was sucking on her slice of lemon with a goofy look on her face. _So maybe she has the technique, but not the resistance_.

“Yes! This was really better, Fleur! We will keep trying until you can do it perfectly”, Hermione said, just a little too enthusiastically.

  
“But I don’t have to master it tonight, non? I was not prepared for a...how you say… wild night”

  
“Oh! Of course not! I’m so sorry, Fleur. First I drag you off and now I keep you out late…”

  
“Breath, _mon cœur_ , it is all right. It’s just that I have an appointment tomorrow and I don’t want to be...a mess”, Fleur interrupted.

  
“Do you want to go?”

  
“Non, I’m having a great time”

  
“Me too! I am going out more now. Or better, I’m going out now. Before, it was just Hogwarts, engagement and marriage. But even so, this is funnier than...ah...I don’t know…” Hermione said laughing. _I should probably eat something by now_ , she thought.

  
“I understand. It’s weird having to learn how to be young when you are older…” She started too. _It seems that I don’t have the resistance either_. “Between my family, Victoire, my job and managing William...And almost all my friends back home are still married. The other night I went to a club with Gabrielle and her friends! It was so weird! She’s almost ten years younger than me!”

  
“Merlin! Are you serious!? Ginny tried to go out with me a couple of times. I think that she wanted some time off and used me as an excuse, I swear. We went to a club, and I like dancing, but that was just so crowded!”

Shot nº 5:  
“The salt goes here, _Je_ ne veux _pas_ the lemon! _Je_ pense que _...Oui_! No salt either! They are just getting in ze way!”, Fleur decided, taking another shot.

“Err, maybe we should think about stopping...call it a night...soon. What is your appointment tomorrow, anyway? Is it really that important?”, Hermione asked.

“It is a job interview, for Gringotts, here in London… I am not sure if I want it or not, but I think that either way showing up tomorrow is important”.

“Bloody hell, woman! That is huge! And great news! Congratulations, Fleur! You must be brilliant at your job! How are you out with me drinking? Let’s go, now!”, the overachiever of the table started to panic with the news. But the French woman was not amused.

“Breath, _mon cœur_. As I said, I am not sure if I will take it…”

  
“But...I mean...Wouldn’t be easier, with Bill?”

  
“Would it? I am halfway across the continent and he keeps fighting me for my daughter. Wouldn’t it be easier for him to take her away if I was closer? And, it’s not juzt that. Why should I be so far away from my family to make things easy for him? Why should I change all my life, Vic’s life, come back to this awful, could, lonely, beautiful city, for him?”

  
“Fleur, love, he will never take her from you. I wouldn’t let, even if it was possible! And you won’t ever be alone in England. I know that we are not really close, haven’t talked in years, but you can always count on me… And, at last, I mean what I said. This is a great opportunity and if you were offered a job here they must like your work. You should be proud of yourself. I am!”

Shot nº 7:  
No one at their tiny table could say that they were sober. Hermione had a lazy smiled glued to her face and watched the little yellow lights airilly. And on the other side, a smirk ever present on Fleur told anyone that she had a joke on everybody, but only she knew. By now, Hermione had also abandoned the salt and lemon. They ordered some snacks to prevent things from getting much worse.

Fleur ran her hands' through her hair and made a knot at the top of her head. Immediately, a man sitting at the next table turned to look and flashed a smiled at the blond. It was Hermione’s time to smirk. “Seems like the Beauty Queen is back”, she whispered.

The French girl gave a side look in the direction of her admirer. “‘E is not ugly, non? But what are you talking about, _chérie_? You have been receiving ‘eart eyes since we arrived! I even thought that was the reason you chose this place!”.

“WHAT?”, said a surprised Hermione.

“ _Mon cœur_! The girl over there - don’t look now! - is watching you the whole night! I said not to look, _oh_ dieu”.

Hermione had obviously faced the woman. She was beautiful, with a funny face and pale skin with some tattoos. The witch blushed and stared at the table.

The waitress came back later with four shots for the duo. “This if from the gentleman over there”, she said, putting two glasses in front of them. “And this is from the lady on the other side. Enjoy!”, she told them while leaving.

  
They took the first one, clinking their glasses. Fleur turned directly to the young man who has sent her the drink and turned the liquid in one go, batting her eyelashes at him. She nodded at Hermione, daring the younger one to repeat the act with her own admirer. The brunette took an invisible deep breath, taking the glass in her hand. She nodded at the tattooed woman with a timid smile, toasted with Fleur, and drunk. “I knew you had it in you”, the French beamed at her.

After that double shot, they decided it was time to go. Fleur was staying at a hotel in Diagon Alley and thought that it was safer if Hermione flooed home. When they were almost at the door the woman that, accordingly to Fleur, was interested in Hermione appeared next to them. “Hi...err, I’m sorry. My friend threatened to come herself if I let you go without saying ‘hi’. Sorry to interrupt...the drink was her idea too, I mean, you are together, it was rude of her”, she rambled.

“It’s ok, don’t worry. It was sweet. Well, actually not sweet because it was a shot of tequila (the admirer squirmed a little)...oh, no, I mean, the gesture...err”

“What my _friend_ is trying to say is ‘thank you for the drink’, she appreciate it very much”, Fleur saved her.

“Your friend?”, the woman asked, “not your girlfriend? Sorry, that was rude… Hamm… I’m Rey, nice to meet you two”.

“I’m Fleur, and this is Hermione, it is a pleasure”, she said, eyeing her friend, who got out of her trance. “Oh, yeah, lovely really. 'Rey’ is such an unusual name, where’s from?”, she inquired.

 _Always so curious_ , Fleur thought.

“ _Je_ suis _desolé,_ mais, but, I mean, perhaps you can just give her your address and talk later? I have an interview tomorrow”, she informed as an apology.

“Phone! She means your phone, and yes, sure. Humm, here, this is my number”, Hermione corrected.

They were out the street, the night was cooler now and they walked close to each other. “It is funny, non, we met years ago, but only after tonight I can say that I know you. And we’ve been through a lot!”

  
“Yes. That happens a lot, right? We pass our whole lives around the same people, but only reach out for some of them, just to realise, way to later, what we missed”.

  
“I know zat I missed a gorgeous partner in crrime! The girl, Rey! I didn’t know you like girls too! Of course, I wondered back at Hogwarts, but,...”

  
“Well, I don't really know...It’s all so new, what with the divorce and… WHAT? What do you mean, you wondered?”

  
“ _Mon cœur,_ ces’t _bien_! Don’t fret, we can talk about this later if you want”

  
“Thanks, Fleur. I mean it. Tonight was really fun, I missed feeling like this. We should have met like this years ago, things would have been easier”.

  
“They can be easier from now on, non?”

  
“Yeah, I suppose they can”.

They were at Fleur's hotel. The woman at the lobby was preparing the floo for Hermione. The brightest witch of her age learned another thing that night: she liked Fleur Delacour. Fleur gave her a long, tight hug, and a gentle kiss on the cheek and Hermione was gone.


	4. The cool kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Not to be rude, but no one hugged me nor said that I look good and I'm standing here for some time now. But go on. I didn't spend three hours getting ready just for people to notice, anyway"

Saturday night. Somewhere in this universe, this means "fun", "dancing", "letting it loose" and "laughter". Not so much if you went to boarding school. Probably not at all if you went to Hogwarts. Because that means that you are a witch or a wizard and, unless you are a muggle-born, the ways are different.

If you are a witch, went to Hogwarts and are a member of the Golden Trio, darling, "Saturday Night" means nothing.

Fleur was right, learning to be young when you are older is difficult. And weird. But here she is: figuring out what's the appropriate outfit for a party where you are sure to find your ex-husband. _The appropriate outfit is the one that I bloody hell want to use!_ That is the short black dress with the large golden necklace and some medium high heels.

Ginny owled her earlier today. Everybody will be at Harry's birthday. The same group of people that's been with her most of the time, for all her life. And she's grateful. _She is!_ But, not for the first time, she's wondering if wouldn't it be nice to know new people, go to new places. Her life is different now. _She is different now_. She's discovering so much about herself...

A knock at her window takes her mind away from that line of thinking. There's a little owl standing at the rampart. "Hello. What have you brought me? Is it Ginny again? I swear I can't get any more updates about tonight". The bird looks at her like she's someone odd, making all those noises like it would understand. So Hermione just takes the little note.

 

 

 

> Hi, Hermione,
> 
>      Thank you again for yesterday. It was a lovely evening and I enjoyed very much. You were a good friend and a good company.
> 
>      I'm sorry that it took so long but, to answer your question: my appointment was well. I think they like me and the position they are offering is a really good one. I have not yet decided what to do, as I know you'll be wondering.
> 
> Hope to see you soon,
> 
> Fleur.

Oh, well. That wasn't really surprising. Fleur Delacour is a very capable person. She was a Triwizard champion and a member of the Order of the Phoenix. She worked as a curse breaker since she was seventeen. All that can only mean a great deal in a job interview. You have to be smart and brave. Hermione read the last part again. She hopes she can see Fleur again soon, too.

She would write the blonde later. Perhaps tomorrow, when she'll have more time. Maybe they can go out for coffee someday before Fleur has to go back to France. She would like to know more about the other woman. _About curse breaking, I mean_. Hermione smiles while closing her wardrobe. Yeah, it would be nice to see her again.

* * *

 

 

She arrives at the Potters with a pack of butterbeers. She tried to show the gang that muggle beer is good too, but wizards tend to not believe this kind of things. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she knocks at the door.

"Wow. Hello there, good-looking! Who made you wear that dress and how do I thank them?", says a cheerful Ginny.

"Why, Ginevra, thank you. By the way, you can thank her with your best bottle of firewhiskey. The one stashed in your trophy cabinet", she plays along.

"But if you are going to drink firewhiskey what am I supposed to do with all this tequila and lemon I brought?", a second voice asked and Hermione jumped, just now realising Fleur standing next to her.

"Thequi what now?", Ginny asked. But Hermione was still recovering from the blonde's arrival.

"Surprise!", the French sing-sings, with a bashful smile on her face. "You look stunning, chérie".

"Fleur! It is a surprise! Is so good to see you", the brunette complimented, hugging her new friend. "You look beautiful too".

"Not to be rude, but no one hugged me nor said that I look good and I'm standing here for some time now. But go on. I didn't spend three hours getting ready just for people to notice, anyway".

"Ma chère, you needn't invested the time. I would notice you anyway, anywhere", Fleur purred seductively.

Hermione liked the idea and decided to play. "You definitely needn't. Bare is your best look, love".

  
"But I must thank you for all the trouble...", Fleur continues,

"Even knowing it wasn't for anyone but yourself", Hermione interjects.

"Seeing you in that dress has made my night worth", the French declares, followed by Hermione, "the only thing better would be to take it off..."

Ginny, for all her bravado, is flustered. Lost is her ability to speak.

  
"Should I be worried about you two with my wife tonight?", a bewildered Harry asks behind said wife. Hermione instantly loses her balance and chokes while breathing.

Fleur is more subtle. "You can play too if you want".

"Please stop!", Harry pleads, "This conversation has already made me very confused when I was just hearing".

* * *

 

Seamus arrived with enough liquor to intoxicate a quidditch match and declared that shots were mandatory for everyone attending. Fleur was only too happy to help, adding her tequila to the improvised bar. That was four shots ago. Now Hermione’s trying to calculate the probability that whiskey plus tequila plus vodka equals throw up in the toilet. Right now the answer is zero. But in a few hours, she knows it’ll be 150%.  
  
“Not that I didn’t like it or anything but, what the hell was that with Fleur?” asked a flushed Ginny.

It’s annoying that she’s so used to drinking with her teammates that the shots did nothing to her. “It was just a joke. We went out last night after the Burrow and got drunk… I should probably stop drinking, Am I an alcoholic?”.

  
“Wait, what? Did you go out for drinks with Fleur? Since when are you friends?”

  
“What do you mean? We’ve always been friends! Since fourth year! Well, your third year…”

  
“No, you weren’t friends. You have never been friends, she’s been around because she was Bill’s wife, but that’s that. And, well, Shell Cottage…”

  
“And that is the problem, Ginny! We haven’t been friends and she is such a nice person! Why weren’t we friends with her?!”

  
“Ok, you are wasted. We’ll have this conversation in another time”  
  
Deep down, Hermione acknowledges that it is a sad truth, that they weren’t friends until yesterday. But right now Angelina’s taking charge of the music and Dean’s calling her to dance and someone made the lights flicker in rhythm with the music. She’ll get back to that later.  
  
She already danced with almost everyone in the party. And the flow of alcohol hasn’t stopped either. She’s goofing on the improvised dance floor when she senses someone behind her, leaning their body on her own. Hermione tenses for a second, and the person might sense it, ‘cause next thing, Fleur’s saying in her ear “It is juzt me, Min. Sorry to scare you”. The brunette relaxes, leaning her back on Fleur’s front and already dancing with the French. She feels comfortable and happy. So she searches for the blond's arms with hers, and encircled them on her waist, swinging with the music. Everything seems great.  
  
Until part of the little crowd opens and she sees other women dancing just like she and Fleur. Embraced, comfortable and happy. The second one pulls the first one’s hair out of the way and tenderly kisses her neck. Her stomach gets stone cold. She knows them, they are not friends. That’s Cho with her girlfriend. She is with Fleur the same way Cho is with Peggy. Maybe Fleur could pull her hair out of the way and kiss her neck the same way Peggy did with Cho...what?!  
  
“Merlin, I think I’m gonna be sick”.


End file.
